For the Music
by hippiechick2112
Summary: Death saw that Calvin Spaulding always held onto music as his anchor. Calvin thought that he would chase away his demons and was sadly mistaken. When the quest failed, he thought of every way to retain the melodies that chained him to life. Story eighteen in the series "After My War".


**For the Music**

 **Note and Disclaimer: Nope, _M*A*S*H_ still isn't mine. Here's part eighteen of "After My War".**

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Calvin Spaulding was always a man of music. He hummed tunes, strummed his guitar and sang his heart out. That was his life. He thought that there was no other because of the joy it brought to him and many others. But there were always other plans. Life has a way of making sad endings instead of happy ones and he is a classic example.

I mean, Calvin should have had a great life. He grew up in a devoted family, eight other siblings total and all sisters. He was the youngest and adored by those girls. They groomed him for his role as head of the family and took care of him when nobody else did. Even attentive, their parents always worked on their farm to make ends meet, urging all hands on deck. Nobody had time to watch out for the runt of the liter. They had to save money to keep themselves afloat.

In the evenings, the family gathered together and sang. That was what Calvin loved the most. He picked up on this and used it to get through life, from the highs to the lows to the shows. It wasn't just for fun either. Calvin managed to get a scholarship and extra cash instead of borrowing money to go to college. He was that talented and could make songs on the spot.

But that was also his downfall. While his family needed him in North Carolina, Calvin thought that he could support them another way. Being a doctor was it. It meant a steady income and did not have to rely on the weather and hard work that might come to nothing. He easily graduated and began his practice close to the farm. While his parents did not agree with his career choice, they appreciated the money. It wasn't long before Calvin wouldn't be their crutch though. He was soon shipped off to Korea.

And it was scariest place Calvin had ever been to. Even though he had known racism and violence at home, he found Korea to be worse. And why not? It was war. It was battling against the Communists after all.

It did not make sense to Calvin. So, he retreated back into what he knew best: music. That was all he had to hold onto. The war wasn't going to last long, he hoped, but he sure as hell was going to do all he could to make it less bitter. I mean, he impressed his CO, Henry Blake, so much that that grew to be friends. Calvin was also close with Trapper, Hawkeye, Ugly John and Spearchucker. They too understood this power and held sway to music.

It was a refuge and not a reminder, Calvin thought constantly. All of those times they made fun of and pranked Regular Army officers, drank excessively and dated nurses made his experience in Korea worthwhile. He could hold up to the bloodshed and carnage. He could deal with the fleas, rats and snakes. He even could hold back tears seeing the civilians, dressed in their finest rags. War was sure something, he knew, and something he could not forget.

There was a song behind all of it. Calvin sought every single one of them. From the poverty, camping and unsanitary condition, he had lyrics for it. He even made fun of MacArthur arriving and only driving through the camp, Klinger's outrageous outfits and the many times the nurses had been shipped out. There was nothing like it before in his life. Calvin held the strings of this magic. It was his only anchor, his only way to keep afloat, and it elevated him on an imaginary cloud. He was going to crash.

Even transferred out of the 4077th, Calvin kept singing. He dotted his melodies over Korea. He met new friends and kept up with the old ones. But in the back of his mind, he knew that it could only last for so long. Music was all he stood for, yes, but Korea was bigger than that. He could pass on the music and drink to his heart's content, but nothing will erase the images from his mind. Music only soothed the beast and his was only tangled in knots, yearning to be freed.

After his war, Calvin was waiting for his ride home, ecstatic. He gained enough points. While he missed his friends, he sure was glad to be rid of Korea. But while in Kimpo, he was strumming his guitar and making some noise when he was told that his plane was full. He would have to wait for the next one to arrive.

Later, he learned that the plane he was supposed to be on was shot down over the Sea of Japan…and that Henry Blake was on that plane. The guilt was overwhelming and tailed him back to North Carolina. Calvin carried it long afterward too. He tried making a song out of it, but could not find the words anymore. All of his music was left behind in Korea. There was nothing to hold him down now. He hit the ground, all right, and buried himself in the darkness of despair.

I am Death though…and there is always a way to me. Calvin Spaulding was a generous man, but it only lasted for so long. He did not survive long after Korea. He traveled the country to escape the past, pushing away the words he created until he no longer could make it cease. Music was no longer his refuge. But it kept ringing in his head as he found a remote alleyway and shot himself in the head.


End file.
